DA Revelations Episode 13: Gone but Not Forgotten
by AngelExposed
Summary: Jessie feels strangely at a loss without Remy around while he's away for regenerative therapy. R
1. Chapter 1 The Broken Doll

DA Revelations

Episode 13 – Gone but Not Forgotten

Chapter 1 – The Broken Doll

_Jessie,_

_ Don't worry when Hank hands you this letter on my behalf. _

_ Everything is fine. I just don't like goodbyes, even if it's only for a _

_ little while, so I wrote this letter for you, and asked him to give it to_

_ you when I've left._

_ I have to go away for a little while; there's a place called Muir Island in Scotland, and the doctors there want to help me get better so I won't have the hole in my chest any more. They have this _

_ awesome machine that they say can completely heal me up – how _

_ cool is that? _

_ But it means being away for a while, for about a month..._

_ and when I come back I'll be good as new. I won't be able to get in_

_ touch from where I'll be but the month will fly by, then when I get back_

_ I'll take you for ice cream and we'll catch up on everything I missed._

_ Don't give Kitty a hard time, and don't worry about me while I'm gone and try not to miss me – I promise I'm coming back._

_Gambit_

Jessie Crowell felt like she might have looked over the letter a hundred times; there were only so many words in it she understood, and some she knew but couldn't put the written word to the sound. Words like _cool _and _awesome _and _promise_ she knew. Especially promise. It was there, written in black and white. He had _promised_ to come back, regardless if he said it or not.

It had been a week already; but a slow one at that. The days had dragged on, even more than they ever had before she'd even known Mr. LeBeau. Now that she did, the hours dragged like days and the minutes dragged like hours.

And there was that odd feeling...like something had suddenly been ripped from her; like someone had come up and torn one of her arms off and left her bleeding like something from the Family Guy cartoon she'd crept down stairs at two am to see on Fox.

That was the feeling...she couldn't explain it exactly, but whenever she wasn't near Mr. LeBeau it felt like something was missing and she was unsure of what that was. Maybe it was that sometimes she felt they were alike, as if they shared the one mind. Sometimes, she was even convinced she could feel what he felt; being in his presence she always knew exactly how he felt even if he was making a brave face and pretending like he was fine.

_Why do adults always have to pretend to be okay when they're just NOT?_ She wondered as she folded up the letter and put it in her drawer. She hadn't spent much of her life in the presence of adults up until coming to the institute. There had only been five adults at the orphanage, and she felt as if she rarely saw them other than in the classroom where they were just statue-like emotionless teachers who loved to yell.

She'd never really had the chance to see how adults interacted with each other until coming to this place and it had been such an eye opener to see how complicated and strange adults were with each other. Their friendships, their romances, their bickering...it was so much more complicated than being a kid.

There was so much to take in; she'd been watching for days before Mr. LeBeau had left suddenly without any warning. He was one person, then he was another, ranging from mad to sad to normal and back.

He reminded her very much of a doll that Professor Xavier had given her upon her arrival to the institute. It was a battery operated thing that would laugh when it was tickled, crawl on it's own, and talk when it was hungry, it even cried when it wet itself; she'd been playing with it near the upstairs banister of the grand staircase in the foyer and accidentally dropped it where it'd landed on it's head.

Ever since that fall, the doll had acted so strangely that she'd had to take the batteries out of it because it was so utterly disturbing to her. It would cry, and blink it's mechanical button like eyes, then laugh crazily out of the blue and say 'bottle'. Sometimes it's voice would take on an odd deep tone then speed up in the way that the characters on Alvin and the Chipmunks spoke.

Needless to say, she never played with that doll any more...it bothered her far too much and for the longest time, she'd even forgotten she ever owned it. She'd been too embarrassed by having been careless enough to break it in the first place, and feeling somewhat scared of it that she'd hidden it and avoided ever talking about.

And seeing Mr. LeBeau lately; she suddenly remembered that doll. He was just as erratic and unpredictable; he'd seem happy then be sobbing uncontrollably.

Mr. LeBeau wasn't a doll though, and she couldn't just remove his batteries and stick him to the bottom of her toybox and hope that perhaps eventually the problem would just miraculously fix itself.

With a sigh she moved over to her toybox, the life-a-like doll was buried at the very bottom, it's face slightly pushed in by the heavier toys ontop. As she pulled out, it's face started to inflate a little, one eye was closed as if it had been welded shut while the other rolled up, looking at her with an almost drunken expression that gave her a shiver.

She removed the batteries from her small vanity mirror that lit up, and she placed them into the doll, and pushed the back panel in place, and smoothed down the tiny blue t-shirt. She flicked the switch at the neck, and the doll come to life, limbs whirring as they moved, head turning from side to side slowly and deliberate, it giggled, the began to howl.

She sighed and she hugged the plastic thing to her chest, shutting her eyes tightly and tried not to let herself be bothered by it's behaviour. "I'm sorry," she whispered to it.


	2. Chapter 2 The Blackbird

Chapter Two – The Blackbird

Everyone was too busy to take her down to the Sub-basement to see Dr. McCoy so she decided she was going to go down there to see him herself, even though she'd been forbidden to go down there without an adult to accompany her. Since the kids had returned from their Christmas vacations, it had been hectic in the mansion again and she felt as if she were just a small shrimp in a sea of rather big and important fish. Miss Munro was teaching a history class, Miss Pryde was at the doctors with the baby for a check up, Miss Grey was teaching social studies, and Mr. Summers and Rogue were in the danger room with the youngest team of students.

Jessie had always known where the access elevators into the sub-basements were but she'd never been able to access them herself. Dr. McCoy had installed a special panel into every elevator, and while they could easily be opened from the outside and inside, they would only _move _if someone placed their fingers upon the panel and waited for it to scan. Only the adults and the oldest students had the access – the computer recognised their handprints. Jessie herself, did not have the access to use any of the elevators.

But she had a plan today. While playing with an unplugged vacuum cleaner, she'd come across an interesting trick that had somehow made it briefly work. She was willing to try it on the elevator, to see if that might work to.

Tucking her doll under her arm, she moved a chair to the side of the elevator and climbed upon it to reach the high-up access button. She hopped off and stepped in, the doors shifted closed behind her a moment later. She glanced up to the panel, wondering if this would work or if she was just wasting her time.

There were no screws on the panel, and she'd never be able to open it to look inside, but there was a panel on the back wall that could be flipped open to reveal a socket for a plug; Dr. McCoy had installed it when realising that it'd save him having to constantly drag extension cords around with him when he needed to use his electric tools to fix the elevators when they broke down – which was frequently through extended use.

Jessie found the hidden panel by pushing on it, and it sprung open with a soft click, revealing the small socket right there. She chewed her lip, glanced over her shoulder to make sure the doors were closed and that she wasn't about to be caught and she held her index finger a centimetre away from the socket.

She only drew the tiniest bit of energy from it; too much and it would cause alarm, she knew from experience if she absorbed anymore than the fraction of electricity she had from that socket, the lights would flicker all over the mansion, and _someone_ would come looking to find out why she was using her powers outside of the power training sessions she attended with Miss Munro, which was the _only _time she was ever allowed use them.

Her finger crackled with the charge; little forks of white blue light danced down into her hand and disappeared into her veins. She giggled at the slightly naughty feeling of breaking the rules and she reached up, stood on the tippy-toes of her Barbie sneakers to place her hand on the access panel.

The elevator came to life as she forced the small surge of power into the panel; the lights brightened and the elevator suddenly dipped, and shook.

"Uh oh..." she said to herself and gripped onto the bar lining the side wall.

The elevator plummeted downwards, trembling at a ridiculously fast pace; the display panel lit up showing her going past the first and second sub-basements and into the third.

She'd _known_ about the first and second basements; after all, the second basement was where the Danger room was, and she'd been there a few times with Miss Munro and Miss Pryde. But she hadn't _known_ about the third basement.

So when the doors of the elevator slid open and revealed the massive hangar to her; the ceilings higher than the entire height of the mansion, she felt a gasp escape her lips as she stepped out.

She'd always heard the rumours whispered between the younger students of the mansion, about how the X-Men owned a jet...a jet that the U.S. Army couldn't even compete with. She'd certainly _heard_ something close by before that closely resembled the sound of a low flying fast plane. But she'd never imagined the rumours were actually true.

She walked across the hangar and stood facing the jet's front; it was the most amazing sight she'd ever seen up close. It was so awe-inspiring that she dropped her doll and simply stood there gazing up.

"Jessie! What are you doing in here?!"

She spun around to see that Dr. McCoy had found her long before she'd found him. He seemed angry, and and she hadn't banked on him being _that_ mad with her.

"Uhm..." she chewed her lip, "I was playing with the elevator..." she gestured to the elevator doors which were now sitting permanently open.

"Do you know _dangerous_ that was?! What if it had dropped and crashed?!" he squatted down and took a hold of her small arms to shake her, as if it might suddenly make her understand exactly why playing with elevators was silly.

"I only wanted to come see you – I was trying to get to the lab..." she chewed the inside of her cheek.

"Never, never, NEVER without an adult. You know that!"

She pouted and tried to fight the urge to cry – his angry expression softened in response and she relaxed just a little.

"I guess I _shouldn't _be surprised that you managed to get down here..." Dr. McCoy ran let go of her arms, he shook his head then ran a hand through his hair; he seemed to be trying to calm himself down now.

Jessie wondered what he meant about _shouldn't be surprised _about her being able to get into somewhere she shouldn't have.

"I was so frightened you'd be hurt...do you know how dangerous it is in here?"

"What is this place?" Jessie asked, she turned back to the jet to look at it some more; there was so much about it to take in visually.

"This is the Hangar. This is where we keep our planes..." he gestured to the two smaller planes to the back of the hangar – she hadn't even noticed those!

"And this...?" Jessie raised her arms up to the plane. "Is this the plane that everyone always whispers about? The blackberry?"

Dr. McCoy suddenly seemed to lose his anger, because he laughed, although she wasn't sure what he found so funny. "This is the one everyone whispers about."

"Why do they whisper?"

"Because this...is one of the best kept secrets in the world..." he moved over to the front wheel and patted it. "And we're not _supposed_ to have it. It doesn't _technically _exist," he explained.

"I don't know what you mean," said Jessie, following him.

Dr. McCoy smiled and he took her hand and led her to the access hatch which was already open, "would you like to see inside?"

Jessie nodded and followed him into the plane; he led her to the cockpit, but instructed her not to touch anything.

"What do you mean the plane doesn't exist?" Jessie asked; to her, if it didn't exist, it meant it should probably have been invisible, or not there at all...how could something exist but not exist?

"This is the SR72-A blackbird," he let her sit in one of the pilots seats but made her place her hands firmly on her thighs so she wouldn't touch the controls. "The military had SR71's back way before your daddy was even born."

She found this comment strange, what did he mean _before her daddy was born_. He hadn't even known him?

Dr. McCoy seemed to realise he'd said something wrong, and he quickly tried to correct it, although she didn't quite understand what the mistake was, and was only just aware it was there. "I mean...these have been out since the sixties..." he gestured all around him. "This was a prototype – like a kind of...one-off-demonstration model – that the military opted to not use and ordered to be destroyed. How we ended up with it...is not my place to say," he chortled. "Needless to say...it doesn't _technically _exist because the SR72 line was never approved. It's the _only _plane of it's kind and it has many features that no other military plane will _ever_ have."

"I can't believe it's _real!" _Jessie looked all around her in astonishment.

"It's the fastest plane in the world, you know," Dr. McCoy admitted.

This impressed her, she was sitting in the fastest plane in the world – there were people who'd never get to do that! "Can we fly it?"

"Not today," he replied. "And I don't think the Professor would approve of letting you be a passenger in the Blackbird."

She pouted.

"It's not a toy," he reminded. "This is an important part of the X-Men's arsenal..."

"I've never been in a aeroplane," she confessed.

"When you're older you can fly with us," he smiled at her, "When you're old enough we'll even teach you how to fly."

_What if I'm not here when I'm older?_ Jessie wondered. Despite the promises of everyone in the Institute, she still felt that insecurity that something would take her from the people she'd grown to love, and the home she'd finally begun to adjust to. Somehow, she still couldn't imagine herself here in the future. In fact...she couldn't imagine herself in any future at all.

"Can't we just fly for a _little_ while?" she asked sadly.

"I'm sorry..." Dr. McCoy said sincerely, "but it's out of the question, little one."

"We could fly to that Island to see Mr. LeBeau," she said hopefully.

Dr. McCoy's face softened, there was something there behind his eyes...pity? Or...secrets? "Ah...well...Mr. LeBeau can't really see anyone right now while he's having his treatment."

"But _why_?" asked Jessie. She felt that the word _can't_ was an utterly poor excuse and no one would ever explain the reason of why she couldn't even call him on the phone when surely they had phones in Scotland.

"He...will be sleeping, a lot. To heal. Sleep helps, you know. It's when your body does most of it's healing," Dr. McCoy led her out of the Blackbird, his big blue hand totally enclosed her, it was warm, like a glove. She'd once found his appearance so disturbing, but now, she saw him almost as Teddy-bear like, almost like a character from Monsters Inc. She couldn't imagine ever being scared of him now.

As they moved across the hangar, she saw the doll, lying on the floor. "Dr. McCoy..." she said softly as she let go of his hand and ran to pick the doll up, "can you fix this?"

He smiled at her, "of course I can. But you need to promise me you'll never play in the elevators again...and that you'll never tell anyone about the things you've seen in here."

Jessie crossed her heart, and smiled, "I promise."


	3. Chapter 3 The Loneliness

Chapter Three – The Loneliness

The library was always quiet, and no matter how clean it was, it always reminded Jessie of that faint smell of dust and oldness – rows and rows of musty old books lining the walls right up to the high ceilings.

This afternoon, the Library smelled like beeswax and lemon, which was what Miss Grey was using to clean the tables and chairs with while Jessie was supposed to be focusing on completing her maths problems on the workbook in front of her.

Jessie tried to focus on the sums, she wasn't sure what twenty add thirteen was. She'd only learned to count up to twenty and was still having difficulty with that.

"Jessie...you're not doing your work," noted Miss Grey sternly.

Sighing, Jessie pushed her pencil down into the workbook and wrote a number, she didn't even care if it was wrong anymore. She glanced over to the back shelves where she'd first met Mr. LeBeau...first spoken to him face to face. He'd chosen her a book from another shelf when she'd picked up a different one. She knew the title to be 'The Hobbit' but she'd never been able to read it due to the small and difficult to read words. It had pictures within that she had gone over plenty of times while in her room – the book was still there, next to her bed.

"Jessie."

Jessie put her pencil down, "I can't _do_ this."

"Yes you can, just think. We've already gone over this," said Miss Grey, she put down her cloth and she came over to sit beside Jessie – she glanced at the book and her face was grim. "Hmm...I don't think twenty-two is the answer to twenty add thirteen, is it?"

"I dunno..." Jessie pouted.

"Okay, how many is ten?" Jean asked.

Jessie held up both hands to reveal all her tiny fingers.

"Okay. And twenty?"

She raised her hands again, this time, twice.

"Alright...well...how many would you have if you added ten to twenty?"

Jessie raised her hand a third time, she thought about it. "Thirty," she finally responded.

"And three?"

"Thirty three?"

"Good girl," Miss Grey smirked and got up.

"I hate math."

"Many of us do," said Miss Grey with a gentle sigh, "But you need to know how to count when you're older."

"So I can count money and stuff?"

"Yes, now do your work."

Jessie thought of counting money. "Does Mr. LeBeau really have millions of dollars?"

Miss Grey gave a laugh, "Whatever made you think that he does?"

"The older kids said so," Jessie replied.

"I don't know how much money Mr. LeBeau has," said Miss Grey honestly, "but I don't think it's millions of dollars."

"But it's _a lot_, right?"

"I..."

"Because everyone says that this bracelet cost _a lot _of money," Jessie held up her wrist where her platinum bracelet glittered in the overhead lights.

"Well, maybe he did spend a lot. But I don't think he spent a million dollars," Miss Grey grinned at her, "now do your math--"

"The kids say bad things about him," Jessie admitted.

Miss Grey stopped, "about who? Remy?"

"Yeah."

"Like?"

"That he's a thief."

"I..."

"Did he steal this?" Jessie asked suddenly, gesturing to her bracelet.

"No, he didn't."

Jessie looked down at the bracelet, "But how do you know?"

"Rogue was with him when he bought it – she told me so," Miss Grey assured. "Now please do your work and let me get back to what I need to do."

Giving in, Jessie tried her best to complete her school work; doing math reminded her of sitting in a class room on her own at the orphanage doing math, when the teachers and even the kids had thought her far too dangerous to be around. Jessie wondered if she would always be in classes on her own, or if eventually she would become like the other students, who took classes together and spent time training together.

She felt it strange, somehow, that although she was around more people now than she'd ever been at the Orphanage, that she'd never felt _more _alone. Perhaps it was just the lack of seeing children her age; even knowing there were some around would be an improvement over being the youngest and certainly the littlest, student at Xavier's.

"Why am I the only little kid here?"

Miss Grey was on her knees, shining up the leg on the table; she paused to look up, a sad expression on her pretty face. "Well...you see..." she sighed, "You...are unique. Most kids don't know they're mutants until they're older than you. But you're special – your powers came extra early."

"There are no other special kids?"

"Of course there are. They're just not...here."

"I wish they were," Jessie said.

"I know it's lonely," said Miss Grey. "I was here when I was young – Scott too. And it isn't easy, I know. There were even less students here then than there are now," she smiled. "The loneliness will go away – I promise."


	4. Chapter 4 The Gossip

Chapter Four - Gossip

Dinner was disgusting. Granted, it was better than the sludge that used to be served at the Orphanage, and certainly more appetising looking. But she didn't like green beans, and she didn't like Broccoli, and she hated the texture of the pork; her jaws got sore from trying to chew it.

She pushed her food around with her fork, listening to the rest of the students talking amongst themselves. They were talking about their training – they got to take part in the fun and exciting sessions in the danger room, and were always bragging about what levels they had completed and what holographic enemies they had defeated.

Jessie, again, felt sadly out of place, and despairingly lonely. She hated eating with the students, although she understood that the adults liked to speak _adult business_ at the dinner table and they couldn't always do that while she was there with them.

She wondered if it was dinner time where Mr. LeBeau was – and what kind of meals he was having in Scotland. Did they all speak like Groundskeeper Willie over there?

"I mean it's _weird_," said Rusty Collins who was sitting close enough that Jessie could hear his low tone as he spoke to Alison Blaire who was sitting across from him. "I can't imagine Rogue getting married to anyone."

Jessie put a piece of carrot into her mouth; she tried to pretend she wasn't listening – not that they ever noticed her enough to see that she was.

"I heard they're not getting married," Alison was saying matter of factly. "I mean how can they? What are they gonna do on their wedding night? Watch TV?" she giggled.

"He must spend a fortune in porn," said Rusty, and he laughed at this.

Alison kept her voice low, "Makes me wonder."

"What?" asked Rusty, even more quiet now.

"Y'know...if Gambit has something on the side? Maybe Miss Pryde's baby is _his_. I mean...she's never said _who_ Caleb's dad is...maybe it's him."

"Oh come _on..." _interjected Everett Thomas, "you think the guy can actually hit the target when it comes to making babies?"

"Hey, he was around the time Kitty got pregnant," Rusty reasoned.

Jessie pursed her lips. She didn't know herself who the baby's father was, but she knew in her heart it could never be Mr. LeBeau.

"Nah...guy has this big reputation as a major don juan...if he wasn't shooting blanks, there'd be all sorts of women showing up looking for child-support cheques."

"He's not shooting blanks," came a Southern drawl from nearby; Paige Guthrie put down her glass of water and leaned over the table a little to join the conversation.

"Yeah, right," said Everett.

"No, it's true," Paige assured.

"So where is the kid then?" Everett gestured his arms up in the air.

Paige's voice lowered, "she died..."

"Really?" Alison blinked.

Jessie glanced over at them from the corner of her eyes; she felt invisible. No one seemed to even be aware of her presence. She wondered if she was like the Blackbird jet...not really existing even though being there.

"How do you know?" asked Everett, scoffing.

"Sam told me. The baby died in childbirth – umbilical wrapped the neck. It was a little girl – Gabrielle I think her name was."

Jessie felt an instant despair thinking of Gabrielle LeBeau; she'd known the girl had died as a baby but she hadn't known that the baby had died during childbirth. She wasn't sure what an umbilical was, but anything wrapped around a neck was dangerous. Suddenly, she felt sadder for Mr. LeBeau all the more that he'd never gotten to see his little girl alive before she'd been taken so suddenly.

_If things had been different and she hadn't died,_ Jessie wondered, _would me and her be friends? Would she be here at the institute like me?_

The thought of having a friend her age made her heart ache with the echoes of loneliness.

"That's kind of sad," said Alison softly, her lips pulled a pretty but sad pout at the tragic revelation.

"When _was_ all of this?" Everett demanded.

"I dunno...2003 maybe," Paige responded. "It was Sam's second year I think."

"You're _sure?" _asked Rusty.

"Yes, I'm positive. Sam told me about it...he was at the frickin' funeral. It was the _first_ funeral he'd been to. And y' know what else..." Paige leaned in closer to say in a hush voiced.

"Hmm?" asked Alison.

"The mother of the baby; she was living here...and she just bailed...like she popped out the kid and just...like...disappeared. No one ever saw her again..."

It was odd, that although Jessie had known about Gabrielle's death, it had never occurred to her somehow that there was a mother who she'd never heard about. She wasn't exactly sure where babies came from but she knew it took _two_ people, and she wondered why it never had occurred to her earlier.

"How come it took so long for Gambit to come back, anyway?" Alison wondered aloud, "I mean...how long was he away? Six years?"

"Seven, I think," Paige responded, "Sam said he'd left a few months later...some stuff went down and there's still all this big _hush_ about what it was...all I know is Sam got called back here to be at this big _meeting_ or something when Gambit came back – and it was something important and he wouldn't tell me what."

"He creeps me out sometimes," Everett said suddenly.

"Why?"

"He doesn't creep you out? The way he goes up and down this place not doin' anything remotely important; why is he _always _hurt? He's shifty. I don't know how the Professor could actually _trust_ a professional Thief."

Jessie's eyes flitted to look over to Everett.

"You just _know _that guy must be loaded," Rusty agreed. "Probably a swiss bank account somewhere with millions of dollars in it."

"If he's _that_ rich, why does he still dress like a bum?" Alison pondered.

"That's how rich people stay rich. By not spending," said Paige with a grin. "I kinda like the way he dresses – I love that whole ruffled 'could care less' look. Suits him."

"Yeah, but you have a thing for guys who look like douchebags," Alison remarked.

"Do not," Paige rolled her eyes. "Anyway, you can't deny Gambit isn't hot, no matter _how_ he dresses or acts. He has the kinda body that you could just totally stare at all day. And his butt.."

The conversation was starting to make Jessie extremely uncomfortable. Without excusing herself, she got up and left without finishing her dinner. As she wandered around the halls somewhat aimlessly, she wondered why the other students thought it was so acceptable to talk about Mr. LeBeau in such a gossipy manner...and why the girls thought it was fine to think about his body in that way. It seemed so...wrong.

What what felt more wrong was that she had listened to the whole thing without once trying to defend him; not that she thought they would have taken her seriously, or for that matter even hear her.

Hearing about her had only made her feel even lonelier and she sighed as she climbed the stairs.


	5. Chapter 5 I Hope So

Chapter Five – I Hope So

Jessie entered Mr. LeBeau's room quietly, peeking her head around the door before stepping in and switching the overhead light on. The room was uncannily cold; she saw her breath mist as she sighed and looked around. There was a smell of disinfectant in the air, not particularly unpleasant but noticeable. It seemed to mask several other smells that she couldn't place, but the strange slightly cleaner patches on the carpet seemed to suggest someone had spilled something nasty there and the smell had still lingered.

She moved over to his dresser; his colognes were there, all set out, barely ever used; the names on the bottle she couldn't even read or pronounce, but she picked them up and popped the lids off to smell them before placing them back where they had been; a film of dust gave her the template of where they properly belonged.

There was a photo on the mirror; she had to stand on her tiptoes to take a better look. It was old, and slightly crinkled at one end. Mr. LeBeau and Rogue were in it, he had his arm around her and he was smiling his most genuine happy smile. He was wearing a dapper black suit and Rogue was in a dress that reminded Jessie of the colour of the scab on her elbow from when she'd fallen down on the a few days before.

Rogue looked so different – and young! Her hair was short and cut to her shoulders, the white in hair made the cut seem very edgy. Her eyes were dark, dusted and her lips a deep red, and her smile didn't seem as genuine as Mr. LeBeau's. She seemed worried, or maybe it was just the way the photo had been taken that made it seem so.

Jessie reached up, standing on her tiptoes, and she took the photo down from the mirror and examined it closer. She hadn't realised that they both had been together for such a long time. She'd become so distracted with looking at the picture, she hadn't heard a soft footstep beside her.

"My seventeenth birthday."

Jessie jumped, and dropped the photograph to the floor; she spun around to look at Rogue, who had quietly stepped into the room.

Rogue knelt down on the floor to pick up the photo, "sorry, didn't mean to startle you," she said softly.

Looking down to the floor guilty, Jessie pressed her toe into the carpet anxiously, "am I in trouble?"

"No," said Rogue. "I mean...you shouldn't be sneaking about peoples bedrooms when they're not home but...I don't think Remy would mind..." she confessed. She sat upon the edge of the bed. "Why are you in here?"

"I just wanted to..."

"Be near him somehow," Rogue finished for her, her tone more tender than Jessie had ever known it to be before.

"It's not the same here without him," Jessie confessed.

Rogue stared down at the photo, she ran her gloved fingers across the image of Remy, "no...it's not," she agreed.

"It's a very nice photo," Jessie admitted honestly.

Smiling, Rogue nodded, "yes. There aren't many of us, but this is...a reasonably nice one."

Feeling a little more at ease now that she wasn't in trouble, Jessie moved over to the bed and sat beside Rogue, she wasn't sure what else to say; she felt terribly awkward in the presence of the woman.

"It was my seventeenth birthday – we were in Scotland," Rogue explained.

"Wow...that's just...ten years older-er than me."

"Yes..." nodded Rogue.

Jessie took the photo from her and looked at it closer. She wondered if in ten years she might look like the Rogue in the photo, beautiful, slim, exquisitely dressed. It occurred to her that Rogue must have been a very different person when these photos were taken – she wasn't pale like this anymore, and didn't wear makeup like that. Even the way she wore her hair was so different; it was as if the woman had become softer and more feminine than the girl she'd so long ago.

And what of Mr. LeBeau? What had he really been like? He almost looked the same, except from the face, which was fuller, his jaw less sharp, his nose less bony.

"What was he like then?" Jessie asked after a moment.

"Different," Rogue said, her voice dropped. "And yet...the same."

It wasn't the answer she'd hoped for, but it would have to do. "You love him a lot," Jessie said; she could see the love in the woman's eyes.

Rogue smiled to herself, her eyes distant and she seemed to be thinking of happier times.

"How long ago was this?" Jessie asked, gesturing to the photo. She wasn't sure how long ago it had been that Rogue had been seventeen years old. Not that Rogue looked old, but she was thinner in the face and slightly wiser in the eyes than the pretty gothic girl in the picture.

"Seven years ago."

"I wasn't even born yet..." Jessie realised.

"No, you weren't.

"Had Gabrielle been born?" Jessie asked quietly.

Rogue was silent for several moments; she seemed genuinely surprised that it had been brought up. Jessie momentarily wondered if perhaps the woman was going to change the subject.

"Yes. It was a month after Gabrielle had been born," Rogue answered softly.

"Did she really die while being born?"

"Did Remy tell you about that?"

"No. I heard it," Jessie replied, feeling slightly embarrassed to have brought it up now.

Silent for some moment, Rogue reflected on the question, her eyes were glassy for a moment, then she sniffed and took a deep breath, "yes," she simply answered.

Jessie as overwhelmed with sadness; no wonder Mr. LeBeau hadn't wanted to be the one to take care of her when Miss Pryde had gone into labour. It must have reminded him of the tragedy.

"Who was Gabrielle's mother?" Jessie asked.

Rogue seemed startled by this question, "It doesn't really matter, sugar. She's not around anymore."

"Did she die?"

"No, I don't think so. She left."

"Did you and Mr. LeBeau fall in love after that?"

More silence, Rogue seemed almost baffled and awkward now: Jessie wasn't sure what she'd said wrong exactly that seemed to fluster her so much.

"No...we've been in love since I was sixteen..."

"So how did--" Jessie began. She'd wanted to ask how Gabrielle had been born if Rogue and Mr. LeBeau had been in love and together. How could a third lady be involved.

"It's very complicated," Rogue answered. "And not for me to say – and I don't think you should ask Remy either. It's not something he really wants to remember...do you understand."

"Okay," Jessie agreed. "Can I ask just one more question?"

Rogue had to think about this but finally, she nodded.

"He really _is _coming back isn't he?"

Her eyes were full of adult worry, her lip quivered just a little before she spoke, "I hope so."


	6. Chapter 6 Complicated

Chapter Six - Complicated

Jessie barely slept that night. Every time she felt herself almost dozing off the image of a tiny baby in Mr. LeBeau's arms would flash before her eyes and she would be wide awake again, thinking of how tragic it had been for one so small to die. A hard rain was pelting at the high window on the wall just above her toybox, and outside a fierce wind rattled.

_The snow will be all melted away tomorrow,_ thought Jessie dully as she sat up in bed and reached over to turn her light on. She got up and walked across the floor, shivering in the slight cold that had penetrated the tiny bedroom.

The toybox was cold beneath her bare feet as she climbed up to stand on her tiptoes and gaze out of the window; her bedroom overlooked the front of the mansion, the drive, and the gates. She wished desperately that she would see Mr. LeBeau walking up the driveway but alas, he did not come.

It was inexplicable why she missed him so much. She'd barely known him and yet felt something closer to him than she ever had with any other person she'd ever known – except from Miss Pryde. Miss Pryde had been the first real grown up Jessie had ever felt any love for – and had often wished that the woman would somehow adopt her and she could call her mommy.

_That's stupid,_ thought Jessie as she hopped back down from the toy chest. She sat down upon the floor and pulled her knees to her chest. _No body can pick who their mom and dad are. _

Yet, she couldn't help have that fantasy play over in her head; Miss Pryde as the adoring mother, and Mr. LeBeau as the strong and handsome father. She'd even have a little brother – Caleb – who would be her friend when he was old enough to know how to talk.

But Jessie was realistic, and she understood that things were never going to be that wonderful in this place; there were no mothers and fathers here, just friends, and teachers, broken families who were trying to glue together pieces to make their own new families.

Her thoughts shifted to dinner, when she'd heard the older kids talking about who Caleb's father might be and Mr. LeBeau being suggested. What if that were true? What if they would be their own kind of glued together family? And if that would happen...how did Rogue fit into that?

Her throat was dry; she picked up her slippers, pulled them on awkwardly, then left her bedroom to go downstairs. The mansion was in silence, the hallways lit dimly by lights on the wall that were pretending to be candles, but didn't flicker even remotely. She padded quietly down the hall and down the long staircase then turned to the kitchen.

She hadn't expected Professor Xavier to be up, but there he was; sitting at the kitchen table in his Wheelchair, eating a sandwich while reading a newspaper that was laid flat. She stopped there, wondering if she should just turn and go back upstairs; he would probably reprimand her for being up so late.

Professor Xavier raised his shiny head and sat there for a split second, like that, not doing anything, then he said, "Jessie, you shouldn't be up this late."

Jessie knew the Professor's tricks of the mind, and had heard people say he could _sense_ people when they were near, which was how he could tell she was there without even having looked in her direction.

"I'm thirsty," she answered.

"Okay," the Professor nodded.

She wandered to the fridge and picked out a small bottle of flavoured water from the bottom and then she moved over to the table to climb up onto the chair opposite the Professor. She tried to read the writing on the newspaper, but it was upside down from where she was.

"You seem troubled," the Professor said, he closed the paper, and folded it up, he put it onto the chair next to him, as if to fully get rid of the distraction.

"I'm fine," she replied, although she didn't fully understand why she was lying.

He smiled; sometimes he looked stern and cold with the harsh lines of his face and his cold eyes, but when he smiled everything seemed to melt away until he seemed like the kind of person worthy of speaking to. "If there's something bothering you, you should always say so."

"Why?" she asked.

"Because it's not pleasant to feel bothered by something," the Professor explained, "so...what is troubling you?"

"I can't sleep," Jessie sighed, "It's too cold in the room – and the rain is too loud."

"Yes, the weather is rather inclement tonight," the Professor glanced to the window even though the blinds were closed and neither of them could look outside into the night. The wind still was audible though even from this side of the mansion. His eyes were unfocused, and he inclined his head a little as if listening for footsteps outside. "Something else..." he looked at her, "are you sad?"

"Kind of," she replied.

"Tell me why," the Professor said softly; he wheeled out from under the table and backed into a counter, turned, and awkwardly grabbed down a jar. He moved back, and placed the jar upon the table.

"I don't know," she shrugged.

"Yes, you do, now, come on. You don't need to keep secrets from me," the Professor opened the jar and retrieved a small cookie out, which he handed her.

Jessie didn't eat the cookie right away, but rather looked at it, and turned it in her hands for a few moment, "the older kids were talking about Mr. LeBeau. And his baby, and about Miss Pryde..." she shrugged. "I don't like the way they talk about them."

"What did they say?"

"That Gabrielle died with a thing around her neck...that's horrible...why do they have to say things like that at the dinner table...?" she asked, she tried to sound as grown up as possible – she hated sounding like a child, being the youngest was stigma enough.

"You're right," said the Professor with a firm nod, "that isn't appropriate talk at all."

"They also said they think Mr. LeBeau is Caleb's daddy 'cause she never said who it is and Mr. LeBeau doesn't shoot with blanks..." Jessie admitted; she was unsure of the meaning of shooting with blanks.

Professor Xavier's eyes widened a little, and his mouth dropped, "well, uh..." he put his hand behind his neck and thought about his words, "that's definitely inappropriate talk," he added, "and you'd be wise not to repeat a rumour like that. But it's good that you've told me so I can tell them off for saying such things."

"Are they true?" Jessie asked, she took a bite from the cookie.

"Jessie...adult relationships are...complicated. But I can assure you that Remy isn't Caleb's father," the Professor said firmly, "but it really is no one's business..."

"I know, I'm sorry," Jessie looked down guiltily. Along with the guilt she felt a strange sense of relief. Momentarily she had even felt slightly jealous of the thought that Caleb might be Mr. LeBeau's – that in future she might fade into the background because he needed more time for the baby.

"You're...bothered, by the possibility of Remy having a child, aren't you?" Professor Xavier queried, he took a cookie from the jar and bit into it himself.

"I know it's wrong to have 'bad feelings' about anything," Jessie responded sadly. She was sure that the jealous feeling definitely constituted 'bad'.

"It's only human to have bad feelings every now and then," he answered.

"I like Mr. LeBeau the best..." Jessie admitted, "and I want to spend lots of time with him."

Professor Xavier looked at her almost as if he understood those feelings. "You will spend time with him – but you know he won't be able to spend every minute with you...and that you should grow used to spending time with others..."

"But it isn't the _same,_" she replied. She wasn't sure why it wasn't the same, she only understood that being with anyone other than the man felt different.

He didn't seem to have a response to this, so he was silent, thoughtful, as he ate his cookie.

Jessie suddenly thought to ask another question. "Professor...when I come here, did you have to adopt me?"

The professor thought about this, then shook his head, "No. Guardianship was handed over to the institute as it was in your best interest to be with others like yourself."

"So I can still _be _adopted?"

"I...suppose so," said the Professor, "but--"

"Can Mr. LeBeau adopt me?"

The End – Or is it? Mwahahahahahah!!

(Okay, so it's perhaps a little later than promised – after Christmas time was very time consuming. Hope you all enjoy the episode and look forward to the next, which will hopefully be sooner! Lol.

As usual, review if you liked it or have any thoughts. Reviews help encourage me to keep going! :) Happy New Year everyone!).


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